


Behind Closed Doors

by SecondStarOnTheLeft



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: But not much really, F/M, Kink Meme, Porn With (a little) Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondStarOnTheLeft/pseuds/SecondStarOnTheLeft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things are not always as they seem at Highgarden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Closed Doors

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the asoiafkinkmeme prompt: Sansa/Willas and Arya/Gendry – Lord and Lady Tyrell have the sweetest, most chaste relationship in public, and the roughest, filthiest sex imaginable behind closed doors. Arya and Gendry's relationship seems to be equal parts name-calling and swordplay, with not a word said about the gentle lovemaking above his forge.

 

Sansa smiled almost shyly up at Willas when he presented her with a barely-blooming blossom, a pink-flushed yellow rosebud of the colour that Sansa particularly adored.

"Thank you, my lord," she said softly, ducking her head to smell the pretty little flower in her hand. "It is lovely."

"Not so lovely as you, my lady," he said, his eyes as soft and warm as his voice. He lifted a hand and brushed a stray curl back from her face with a small smile. "That loveliest flowers blossom in adversity has been proven true in you, my love."

She blushed pearly-soft pink high across her cheekbones and bit her lip, watching him through her eyelashes.

"You are too kind, my lord," she said, picking fluff from his doublet with nimble fingers. "And mayhaps biased, as well."

He laughed at that, catching her hand and lifting it to his mouth, pressing a tiny kiss to her knuckles.

"I am neither, my lady," he assured her, smiling a touch wider. "Merely honest."

* * *

_"So fucking beautiful, Sansa," he gasped, burying his face between her legs again, pushing his tongue as deep inside her as he could reach. "Gods, Sansa, I will never tire of your cunt, you taste so fucking sweet, did you know that?"_

_"Willas-"_

_He slipped two long fingers into her, pushing them much deeper than his tongue had reached and setting his lips around her nub, fucking her and sucking on her, lifting his head only to tell her how good she tasted, only removing his fingers so she could taste for herself, and she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe-_

_"You have the most beautiful cunt in the world," he announced, lifting his mouth away from her for a moment to catch his breath. "I won't believe otherwise, Sansa, I won't believe a word of it."_

_She pushed his head back down with a wail, and she managed to spare a thought to hope that nobody came into the library until they were finished and she found her smallclothes._

* * *

Arya thumped Gendry fiercely in the shoulder when he teased her about being so little, especially considering the rest of her family was so tall.

"Shut up!" she fumed, stomping away and only getting a half dozen paces before he caught her wrist in his huge hand.

"You _are_ little though," he laughed, scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder like a child. "Tiny little Arya, too small to fight with a real sword."

"Shut  _up!"_ she shrieked, kicking him hard in the gut once, twice, a third time, and he finally set her down. He glared down at her from that ridiculous height of his, and she only had a moment's warning before he was picking her up again and sprinting across the garden to dump her in the ornamental pond under the carefully tended willow tree.

He laughed so hard he fell over.

* * *

_"I like that you're little," he breathed into of her thigh, nuzzling the skin and peppering it with tiny, barely-there kisses. "Dainty, like."_

_She laughed breathlessly – he had a talent for leaving her breathless, her blacksmith – and stroked his hair._

_"I was never called dainty before I met you," she told him as he licked around the seam of her hip and her thigh. "Everyone thought I was clumsy and awkward."_

_"Delicate," he murmured, mouth ghosting over her skin with the sort of gentleness that would have taken her breath away had she any left. "I like that you're little, Arya."_

_He parted her with gentle, rough fingers, and every mite of air rushed out of her lungs in one huge gasp._

* * *

Willas blushed and urged Sansa to join the dancing when she settled back into her seat at the feast, but she merely took his hand and smiled.

"It would not do for me to abandon you, my lord," she pointed out, the faintest hints of sympathy and amusement both in her luminous eyes. "That would be unfair."

This was an old argument, or at least the closest to an argument that the Lord and Lady of Highgarden ever seemed to have – unlike Lady Tyrell's sister and her bastard blacksmith husband, of course.

"I implore you, my love – you do so enjoy dancing. Go, I will not be offended," he promised her, tilting his head and smiling at her. "Nor will I be jealous," he teased, linking their hands together and lifting them so the light caught on the band of silver and diamonds around her finger.

* * *

_"Please, Sansa, please-"_

_"Begging, are we?" she mused, kneeling astride his belly and tugging to make sure the bonds holding his hands above his head were secure. "Submission suits you, husband – mayhaps I should tie you up more often."_

_She took her time in stripping off his breeches, taking care to brush against the swell of his cock far more than was necessary, too much for him to ever believe it to be accidental._

_She stood up on the bed when she had him stripped naked, one foot on either side of his waist and her hands on her hips._

_"Beg, Lord of Highgarden," she ordered. "Beg, Willas of House Tyrell, and hope that I am in a generous mood, else I'll leave you here like this and go take care of myself."_

_He moaned, tossed his head, fought against his bindings, but the only words out of his mouth were desperate pleas._

* * *

Gendry tossed aside his apron and charged out of the forge behind Arya.

"Gods damn it, woman, get back here now!"

"I won't do as I'm told!" she shouted over her shoulder. "You have no right-"

"Like hell I don't! I'm your  _husband!"_

Arya scoffed and whirled to a halt, planting her hands on her hips

"Just because you're my husband doesn't give you the right to order me around," she informed him flatly. "You took  _my_ name, remember? You're a Stark by marriage, which puts  _me_ in charge."

* * *

_"Is that good?" she murmured, fingers tracing slow, torturous lines across his skin. "I want it to be as good for you as it is for me."_

_"Very good," he gasped, tilting her head up for a kiss before rolling her onto her back, leaning up on his forearms to keep his weight off her. She looked up at him with wide eyes, and he almost choked on how beautiful she was. He traced the line of her nose with wondering fingers, and she laughed at him._

_"Come here," she said softly, twisting a hand into his hair and leaning up for a kiss._

* * *

"My lord."

"My lady."

"Willas."

"Sansa."

"Dearheart."

"Little wolf."

* * *

_"You want me to fuck you, Sansa? Is that what you want? Tell me what you want me to do."_

_"I want you to fuck me," she gasped, back arching high off the table. "Willas-"_

_"Tell me how you want me to fuck you," he growled, fingers digging into her thighs. "Tell me where you want me to fuck you, Sansa."_

_"Fuck my- my cunt, Willas, fuck my cunt, please-"_

_Goal reached – making say the word she hated so much – he threw back his head and he fucked her until she screamed._

* * *

"Arya."

"Gendry."

"Stupid."

"Milady."

"Bastard."

"Bitch."

"Idiot."

"Brat."

* * *

_"Do you like that, sweetling?" he laughed, lifting his mouth from her nipple but not removing his hand from between her legs. "Does it feel good?"_

_"Oh, oh Gendry-"_

_"My beautiful wife," he breathed, as if hardly daring to believe that the words are true. "Sometimes I look at you and I can't imagine how you're mine."_

_Sometimes he said things that made her heart stop and then start again a hundred times faster than was healthy, and at times like that all she could do was hold him close to reassure him that she didn't want to let go._

* * *

Arya noticed the bruises on Sansa's wrists while they were sitting together in her sitting room during one of Willas' absences to visit with his bannermen, while Gendry was still busy at the forge late into the night. They'd taken to sitting together in the evenings while their husbands were busy, and they'd found a strange sort of comfort in each other's company that they'd never enjoyed before the war.

"What happened to you?" she asked, taking Sansa's hands and pushing up her sleeves. The bruises braceleted her wrists, deep purple against her startlingly white skin, and Arya was prepared to kill whoever it was held Sansa hard and long enough to mark her.

Sansa surprised her by giggling. When Arya looked up, it was to find her sister blushing scarlet and looking sheepish.

"I miss Willas when he goes away," she said softly. "The night before he leaves, we always… Surely Gendry has held you too tight by accident, sometimes?"

Arya couldn't comprehend the possibility – Gendry was always painfully gentle with her, and the idea of bruising her would abhor him.

"No, never."

Sansa's blush deepened until her cheeks burned hotter than her hair.

"Well," she said primly, taking her hands from Arya's and lifting her hoop and needle. "Mayhaps it's best to keep certain things between man and wife."

Arya couldn't help herself, though – she had to ask if Willas had ever hurt Sansa before, and was amazed to hear Sansa giggle again.

"It doesn't  _hurt,"_ she explained, exasperated. "He just… Gendry has  _never_ marked you?"

Arya shook her head.

"Oh," Sansa said, obviously as surprised by the notion of not wanting to carry a mark from Willas as Arya is by the idea of wanting to carry one from Gendry. "Well, it's rather… It's rather thrilling, really, Arya. Oh, I don't have to explain, do I? You've been married for long enough now to understand, surely?"


End file.
